The Girl in the Mirror
by Princess Asaria
Summary: Akari has been raised by her aunt ever since her mother died on the day she turned three. Striving to break out of her gorgeous younger cousin's shadows, she started working as a errand girl for a large talent agency. There she meets a young successful actor with a tragic past, and experiences the new thrill for acting that might just bring her to the top.
1. Prologue

___Hi everyone! This is my first story, thank you so much to take the time and read it! I promise I will write more, this is only the prologue and the story really doesn't get anywhere yet. Please stick with it! :) ~~ THANK YA_

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At the end of the day when my hair doesn't look as nice as it did in the morning, fumbled by restless fingers and the autumn breeze. When my uniform is slightly crinkled enduring the wear and tear of crowded hallways, I look in the mirror and I'm still me; the same small stature, skin as pale as winter moonlight, and hair as black as a midsummer's night. But everything looks just a little sharper than it did before, just a little less happy. Cat-like eyes stare back at me with an emotion I have not yet learned to recognize. Then I am forced to look away, for if not, I would be lost.

I've always tried to imagine what my childhood was like before my parents died and my aunt adopted me. The picture in my mind was always too perfect. I didn't want that. I didn't want perfect to be white flashy teeth that resembled a smile, or sweet words like a love song, but the nice kind of perfect, the kind of days that seems just a little fuzzy around the edges. I've always imagined the three of us; my mom and dad and me, laughing and looking into each other's eyes like one of those neat family portraits inside classy picture frames. Those were only images trapped behind cold glass.

"Akari! We're leaving!" My aunt calls out from downstairs. I tiptoe quickly down the grand spiraling stairs to meet them, careful not to make a sound. The soft afternoon slight cast down on the polished wooden steps, my feet sent fluttering shadows along the walls and on the floor. Stopping directly at the base of the stairs I stand tall with my shoulders square, eyes level, and hands folded like she had instructed me time and time again since I came into her household. My aunt stood by the doorway with a suitcase in one hand and my baby cousin Kyou napping in her arms. Emiko, leaning casually by the wall checked her phone impatiently. My aunt's disapproving grey eyes searches mine, as if ashamed over a gruesome scar only she can see.

"Have a safe trip." I say, smiling when Kyou gurgles sweetly in his sleep.

My cousin Emiko looks up as it noticing me for the first time. "We'll be back before you know it Akari!" She smiles cheerfully and puts her arms around me in a light hug. The smile probably thousands of people have seen in magazines and posters gleamed sweet like honey, yet barely palls the pity in her voice. It causes my heart to clench for just a second. We grew up together and we both love each other dearly, but it's apparent that she pities me for being the person that I am. The girl who's not pretty enough to even pass the first part of a model audition, the girl who isn't smart enough to get perfect marks, the girl that is me.

"Remember to smile!" I joke, and tilts my head teasingly. Not that she needs reminding.

Emiko towers a head over me even though she's only in middle school. She is the pride and glory of this family, becoming one of the leading models in the industry at the tender age of ten. Now she's fourteen and growing ever successful. Her honey blonde hair gleamed like sunshine on a warm sunny day and her eyes large and glowed like sapphire gems. A sweet scent like spring lingers as she withdraws from my embrace. We are as different as different can be. I realized that all long time ago. Maybe that is my scar; being someone so completely different.

No wonder our aunt looks upon me with disdain I am like a dirty mouse living in the walls of a royal palace. Unless I can sprint faster than I have ever done, and reach within even sight distance of Emiko, she'll forever be ashamed of me. I don't want to be a burden anymore, using up their fortune with nothing to contribute of my own. But final exams are approaching. If I can be at the top of my class I'm sure she'll finally look my way and smile. Perhaps she will even be proud of me for the very first time.

I wave as the door clicks shut behind them for the twelfth time in two months. The silence should be familiar by now, but instead, it felt strangely alien. I shake off the slight heaviness in the air and scold myself inwardly. I should be doing something, not standing here staring at a closed door. Slowly, I ascend back up the spiraling stairs, my whole body tinted red in the gradual sunset.


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank you so much for being patient with me! I finally updated, it's been a busy week. So now the story is FINALLY getting somewhere! YAY! Thank you for reading! :D You guys are the best!**

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I let the cool breaths of morning wind caress my cheek, and brush through each individual strand of my dark hair. They tug ever so slightly on the prestigious St. Thomas uniform; the white button up shirt slightly wrinkling, the red and black tie slant awkwardly to the left, and my black skirt fluttering gently above my knees. The sunshine appeared bright, yet is barely felt, pushes away forcefully by the coming of winter. The trees all seem to bow and tip off their hats, welcoming the beginning of October.

When I arrive at school, I will definitely have to straighten out my appearance, but as of now I am free. The invisible chains that bind me are not heavy enough to be resistant to wind. I'm not fit for this uniform. The students who wear it are all at the top of the social pyramid; the child prodigies, the actors and actresses, models, predominant families, and the children of government officials. I guess I am merely borrowing the family name to go to this school. Everything is for the pride and glory of the family, after all.

The grand ornate gates are wide open, and all shades of sophistication strides through. A large courtyard spreads out evenly with a dazzling fountain in the center. It's hard to imagine St. Thomas as a school; it looks more like a rich University with its castle like buildings of marble and glass. I sometimes wonder if the original people who had built it, meant it to be like it is now. Perhaps the first school humbly started right in St. Thomas's west storage shed.

Chatter carries through the sun drenched halls. The windows were large enough to be glass walls, even on the top floor. As if, you can take a step and fall, and fly into cloudless sky. St. Thomas believes in natural lighting, so no fluorescent light bulbs are used unless in extreme conditions. The sun is the brightest light there can ever be, after all.

"Did you hear?" a girl suddenly appears beside me, out of breath.

"No." I laugh; Marru is always the first to hear anything. Her dad is the leading reporter in the entertainment scene, but Marru always "spills the beans" before her dad could even start writing the story. The most exciting news had already been spread around the school when the new issue of _Entertainment Weekly _had first hit retail.

"Ikuto Takami is coming to school for an interview next Monday," She taps on her watch, informing me business-like, "Put it on your schedule." Then she catches another unsuspecting passerby to spread the spark that's about to erupt into flames. No doubly, this will be the hot topic of this week and several weeks to come. I'd better prepare myself.

Ikuto Takami, as the world knows it, is one of the most talented actors of this generation and maybe even the next. He's acted in everything; from commercials to television shows to multi-million dollar universal film productions. St. Thomas can proudly say that Ikuto Takami was one of its graduates. The principal always suggests that he does his regular promotional videos and interviews here; I guess once a famous student here graduates, St. Thomas will never let them go.

On the other hand, I was raised to dislike Ikuto Takami to the extreme. Emiko's oldest brother, Shiru, was his classmate at this school. According to Shiru, the 'gentle and charming' man he seems in the spotlight is just a façade. I remember him having his arms around me as we were watching one of Ikuto Takami's movies on television, his eyes so filled with bitter resentment it scared me.

"That guy is one big jerk when he's not on film," he told me, "He thinks he's better than everybody else."

"Is that why you hate him so much?"

"There's much more to the story." Shiru had said darkly.

I didn't know what that meant, I still don't know. But Shiru was always the only person kind to me, the only one who made me feel even slightly like I am part of the family. He went off to take care of the family business in a different city, days away by car. I like Shiru as if he was actually my brother, so if he disliked Ikuto Takami, then I too am wary of him. I didn't know how it started, but Shiru described him as such a terrible person in such detail that I can't help believe it. Perhaps he is a genius actor, fooling people on screen_ and_ off screen, no slip-ups.

By lunch time, gossip has been bouncing around the halls through the laminate floors and glass windows almost everywhere I go. I shuffle slowly outside, taking an apple with me from the cafeteria. The breeze has calmed from this morning, only stirring the rare loose leaves scattered around the grounds. I sit under an oak tree that's probably had less maintenance than the others, with its branches stretched out in various directions as if all reaching for different parts of the sky.

The apple is not entirely ripe, like most days. I bite into it with great difficulty, and swallow the near tasteless fruit. If they had left the apple with its tree for just a few days longer, maybe it would have been red and sweet like apples should be. Once in a while a few classmates would wave and smile at me from a distance and I would wave and smile back, but they never come close. I am like the apple that's been left on the tree for far too long. I wonder if there is something wrong with me.

For the next two hours, I argue with myself on the matter of getting a job. It's perfectly normal, for a high school student to get a part time job, but will Aunt approve? Is it 'fitting' for this one black sheep of the family to get a part-time job? But I don't want to live off of the money _they_ earn with their own sweat and blood; I can't take advantage of their kindness like that.

_Ah, I got it!_ They don't have to know. It's not like they are at home much anyways, and nobody will recognize me as part of the Fujimoto family. I can just exchange it for cash, and sneak it into Aunt's vault when she isn't looking. Then I'll be secretly paying for my own expenses. The thought lifts something heavy off my chest, maybe I'll be able to break away from the guilt one little move at a time.

After school, I get on the subway leading to the heart of the city where buildings reach the sky and cars run through the street like it's nobody's business. It's quite crowded on late afternoons as students get out from school, adults finished with their work, and senior citizens who merely just wants to see everyone out and about, living, breathing, laughing. I can't blame them; it's interesting to watch people, the way they are all so different yet still all the same.

The city bustles noisily under the dimming sun and Etoile Agency's large jumbled mess of metal stands in front of the front door like usual. It is artwork, I suppose. One of the world's biggest talent agencies also has one of the world's most confusing pieces of artwork displaying openly right front and center of its front doors. Every time I pass it, I always have to stand there and stare at it for a while trying to figure out what it's representing. I bet people think I'm absolutely nuts, but I can't really help it.

I thought I almost made out a person's face within that jumbled sculpture but then someone taps me on the shoulder.

I turn, "Yes?" I say, startled.

A tall buff looking man with no hair stood behind me, his eyes covered by dark sunglasses. I suppose it _is_ sunny outside, but are sunglasses really necessary?

"Are you here for the job interview?" he asks, "it's about to start."

_Job interview?_ That wasn't how I was expecting to find a job but I guess I got lucky. I nod vigorously, and he mentions for me to follow him into the building. I guess I should be more careful about following a strange man wearing sunglasses to an interview of a job that I don't even know about. But he seems like a nice person, and it's not like I'm following him into a dark alley.

The inside of Etoile is clean and sophisticated, even more so than the studio Emiko belongs to. I remember after Emiko started her modeling career, Aunt had made me go through many model auditions in attempt for me to possibly become famous as well. Because of my short height, and traumatizing accidents in high heels, King Studios has probably already secretly banned me from their halls. The staff probably still has nightmares of me tumbling into their expensive camera equipment.

The building itself is enormous; probably even one of the largest. We pass by a large poster promoting Ikuto Takami's new movie, then it hit me. Isn't this the agency he works in? Shiru expects me to despise him. Then we pass another poster, this time of Rika Hayate. Emiko absolutely hates her, ever since the Insider magazine ranked Rika first as country's most beautiful model and ranking Emiko as a mere third. Emiko expects me to hate Rika with her as well… I'm having second thoughts about staying in this building now.

We stop at what it seems like an empty photo shoot set, and a couple of well-dressed people sat in foldable chairs. A middle-aged woman wearing the "staff" laminate around her neck is talking to them.

"Oh," the sunglasses guy says, "they've already started."

I hesitantly tap him on the shoulder, "What…exactly, am I interviewing for?" I ask.

He tips up his sunglasses and look at me strangely, "You don't know?"

I shake my head.

Then he chuckles, "So you just followed me here?"

I nod sheepishly.

The man looks back at the already started interview then finds a comfortable place on the wall by the door to lean against. "I guess I'll interview you separately then," he smiles, "Suzume-san back there, would want me to do something productive anyways."

"You, young lady, and those wonderful young people back there, is interviewing to get a job as an assistant manager." He tells me.

"Isn't that just a fancy term for 'errand girl'?" I smile. Emiko had her own errand girl; that much I know. I heard they get paid rather well.

"Ah, no non-sense, I like that." He laughs, "What is your name, young lady?"

I hesitate. Of course interviews generally ask for your name. Why didn't I think of that?

"Akari." I say.

"Last name?"

"I'd rather not say, sir." I tell him, hoping he won't insist. It would be troublesome if he knew my family relations.

"Are you a wanted criminal or something?" He jokes.

"Something like that." I laugh airily.

To my relief he shrugs it off and moves on, "So why do you want to become a _manager's assistant_?" He asks.

A girl's voice passionately projects into the room, "I also, have always wanted to become a world famous actress!" I hear her explain to _'Suzume-san', _"I never even get picked to go to auditions so I think manager's assistant is a great way to start."

Sunglasses man shook his head and half smiled, "Let me guess, is that the reason why you want to be manager's assistant also?"

That was almost funny. Good one sunglasses man.

"I want to make money," I tell him simply, "Mr. _Suwa." _I read off his staff laminate.

He looks at me incredulously, as if I had said something in a foreign language. His eyes look over my clothes.

"Isn't that the St. Thomas High uniform?"

"Not all students who go there are rich, Mr. Suwa." I counter, even though I'm not sure if that is entirely accurate.

It seemed like we were having a staring contest after a few seconds but then he suddenly smiles, "One more question and you get the job."

I nod.

"Are you a fan of Ikuto Takami."

"No, I don't really like him." I answer without thinking. I suddenly realize once again that I'm interviewing for work inside the Agency that Ikuto Takami belongs to. I could tear my tongue out.

To my surprise, Mr. Suwa starts laughing like I had told him the funniest joke in the world. I expected him to like, kick me out or something; Ikuto is Eloite's brightest star. When he looks up, he wasn't looking at me. Then I finally realize that someone is standing behind me. Wow, I feel like an idiot today.

"Why it's a pleasure to meet you too, miss." a familiar voice says. What are the odds of Ikuto Takami appearing at an errand person interview?

But I turn around, and there he is, with a kind smile on his face. Only the smile didn't feel as kind as it looked, it sent chills running down my spine.

_Oh, I could tear my tongue out._

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**Okay, it really didn't get too terribly exciting, but it WILL...I promise! I'm so busy with school...and I really need actual motivation to write when my mind screams at me to sleep instead. So...the more reviews and favorites I get, the faster I update...*hint hint* ;) Haha thank you for reading! I have some promising ideas for this story! Please be patient with me :D**


	3. Chapter 2

Ikuto Takami gazes down at me, his face cool and composed like he always appears to be when being interviewed on talk shows. But unfortunately, this time I'm not watching him from a screen. His blonde hair is casually sweeping above his eyes; eyes that seem to be withholding several centuries worth of dark secrets. The casual white suit and pants he wears suits his personality but not his age. I've always imagined him as a thirty year old in a twenty year old body.

He is perhaps a little _too _calm, and I have a sudden fantasy of screaming at the top of my lungs, just to see how he would react. I wonder why adults hide their emotions like that; covering them up like they are afraid somebody is going to steal them. I push away the images in my head, compose myself, and bow, "It's a pleasure to meet you sir." I greet, hoping my face matches the words coming out of my mouth.

Ikuto frowns faintly for just a beat, as if mistaking me for someone he once knew, and then nods politely to me before turning to Mr. Suwa, "I'm leaving for Kyoko tonight." Ikuto says to him, "Were you able to buy my plane ticket?"

Mr. Suwa raises his one eyebrow, "and _what _is the magic word?"

"I don't have to go" Ikuto chuckles, "but the one Aurora Studio's going to blame is _you_," Ikuto chuckles.

Mr. Suwa throws his hands up in a teasing _'I give up'_ gesture. "Fine, I'll be a _responsible_ transportation manager for once. Be at the front door in ten minutes."

Mr. Suwa tilts his head and studies me for a moment, and I automatically stand up straighter. Then he breaks into a grin, "Congratulations, you got the job." He winks at me, and then pats me on the shoulder encouragingly as he starts walking past us down the hallway.

"Wait, what?" I can't help gawking.

Ikuto Takami raises one eyebrow as if disapproving, "Another manager's assistant?"

Mr. Suwa shrugs, "I like her. She's different." Then a pause, "She's the only woman I've met that admits her dislike of the charming Takami _openly_." he smirks.

I cringe, wondering if I really am the _only _one.

"Come back here tomorrow at noon!" He calls out from the end of the hallway before he turns a corner and his shiny bald head disappears, reminding me of a big silver dollar disappearing through a crack in the sidewalk.

That leaves Ikuto Takami and me standing alone in awkward silence, with me still in shock, and he still unchanged.

_Come back._ Did I really just hear that? The words still seem to linger hazily in the cool air, as if threatening to disappear if I don't reach out and hold them tight. Everything feels so ridiculously surreal that I want to laugh. Sunglasses man, Ikuto Takami, Etoile, the bewildering sculpture and the St. Thomas student who got a part-time job.

"I'll show you to the front door." Ikuto offers with a small smile.

"Thank you." I smile gratefully and follow him. Maybe Shiru misjudged him? Ikuto Takami seems like a reasonable man. I don't understand the bitterness in Shiru's eyes whenever he is mentioned. I glance up at him for a few seconds, but his eyes hide everything. We walk in silence for a while watching sunlight begin to retreat into the dominating night.

"Why do you need money?" Ikuto suddenly asks almost nonchalantly but not quite, his deep but clear voice cutting through the silence.

I hesitate, a bit startled by his bluntness, "Why do you need to know?" I say, sounding more defensive than I meant to be.

"Motivation shows much about a person's character," he replies calmly, as if reciting a nursery rhyme that is simple and pleasant on the outside, but has a dark hidden backstory. The words leave a bitter taste with every syllable, and his eyes flash as if remembering something about me. Only, we've never met.

"It's for my family." I say. Ikuto's face is still emotionless staring straight ahead, which stirs up my anger more. Tension is now evident, creeping through the windows and seeping from behind posters. Ikuto Takami's shuttering gaze replicates on the walls, flat yet still so real. Storm clouds seem to loom forebodingly above us, and silent lightning crackles with every second of stillness.

Ikuto's eyes flash faintly for a second, "You are Shiru Fujimoto's younger cousin, are you not?" at those words, we arrive at the front lobby. I probably look like a fish right now, with my mouth gaping open but I'm too astonished to speak. _How did he know? _I think about asking him, then I think about lying, and telling him I wasn't but the words don't have enough self-confidence to slip out of my mouth.

"Why does it matter?" I snap instead.

"He's not worth your time." he says, "He's only pretending to care about you." using the same tone as if he is simply telling me my shoes are untied. Those words strike me intensely.

My composure is crumbling and I restrain myself from shouting. "_You're_ the one who isn't worth my time." I scowl, "I don't even know you." His challenging gaze is the only thing keeping me from running out of Etoile. Fear is stirring into outrage.

"I went to school with him."

"I know." There comes a pause, and then a ghost of a smile flitters across the actors face

. "Do you really?"

_Do I really? _The florescent lights begin to glow brighter, in harsh contrast to the darkness outside. It feels like a huge fist is squeezing my insides, threatening to burst. I'm outraged at Ikuto Takami, absolutely fuming. How dare he insult Shiru. How _dare_ he pretend to know all about my life when he knows absolutely nothing. Yet he talks to me as if _I'm _the child that had been kept in the dark.

But even then, beneath all the anger is a spark of curiosity. What in the world did he mean by '_Do you really?'. _What _don't _I know about Shiru? What does he know that I, Shiru's own cousin, don't know? Ikuto must be bluffing; that's what actors are good at, after all.

Instead of lashing out at him, I compose my face to match his unmarred features. I finally look up and meet his eyes,"Is that a challenge?" I ask with a faint smile, as if declaring war. I spot something like surprise flicker ever so slightly across his face. A storm is imminent, and it's been quite a while since I've been given a chance to face one.

"If so, I accept." I nod to him courteously, then turn and slowly push open the glass doors. His dim reflection flashes for just a moment, like a beautiful nightmare that is about to get much, much worse. I stop for just a second to grin big and confident into his startling eyes through the reflection. I walk out the door calmly with my nose tilting slightly upwards and my steps steady, masking my rapidly pounding heart.

Ikuto Takami isn't the only person in the world who can bluff.

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There's something melancholy about riding the subway when the skies are already dark. The city is still very much alive, with bright lights and rustling warm bodies trudging through the streets, in the subways, and rushing by in vehicles. The harsh lights inside the underground train shines harshly upon tired faces, making them seem even more exhausted than they already are. It's as if they've already became aware of how far home is, so they just sit, wait, and dream.

I walk up the street of my neighborhood in silence, watching the houses become wider and wider, and taller and taller as if silently competing with each other. The houses seem empty, with lights shining through only a couple of windows if any at all. The streets are also empty, with only the occasional car rolling past on the wide road.

My mind is a jumbled mess of words, sights, sounds, and people. I think back to Ikuto Takami's eyes reflecting off the glass; it was so incredibly dark like a lion ready to pounce on his prey. What did I do wrong? Other than my declaration of war, what can he possibly charge me with? Perhaps he recognized me from two years ago, when I would bring lunch to St. Thomas for Shiru, but bringing lunch to a family member is pretty common.

Frustrated, I chuck the memories of Ikuto Takami right back to Etoile Agencies where he came from. What an unreasonable jerk.

When I finally reach the Fujomoto house, with its glass exteriors, a light is lit in the living room and also in Shiru's bedroom. I rub my eyes to make sure I'm not hallucinating. _Shiru's home? _I open the door and warm light greets me for the first time in days. My successful cousin is lying on the couch; head angled as he watches the evening news.

"Onee-san!" I blurt out excitedly before I could stop myself. I disregard the fact that my hair is a mess from the wind, and my white socks sit unevenly on my calves. I am simply happy.

Shiru tilts his head over just a little and waves, acknowledging my existence, "Akari-chan, home from school?" He asks this as if it's perfectly normal to be home from school at eight o'clock at night. His dark hair is growing over the top of his ears, and his collared shirt is messily unbuttoned.

"Yeah," I smile at his unprofessional position, "did you eat dinner yet?"

"Yes," He pauses, "but will you make me more?"

I walk over to him, "What do you want to eat?" I suddenly don't feel tired anymore.

Shiru sits up and straightens up his shirt, "Rice cakes." he smiles and I nod eagerly.

"Is uncle doing okay?" I ask from the kitchen.

"Father is fine," he replies, "He's busy as usual."

"And you?"

"On a business trip."

Shiru took over the family business two years ago after he graduated high school. Since he's the oldest, they have already trained him to become a better business man than even his father. I admire him, for being so strong with so much pressure being put on him. He truly is, most definitely Isamu Fujimoto's son. I admire the current him, but I miss the big brother who caught dragonflies with me so many years ago. The young Shiru who preferred to wear sneakers instead of ties.

I neatly arrange the rice cakes on a glass little platter, careful to put them in even rows and even columns, remembering Shiru's dislike of odd numbers. I carry them out to the living room surprised to see Shiru already up, clean and professional. He walks over to me, takes the platter from my hands and pats me on the head.

"Thanks Akari-chan, it's good to have seen you."

I watch as he takes his brief case and head for the door, "W…where are you going?"

"I'm staying at a hotel near the downtown area." he explains, and tightens up his tie. Shiru opens the door, "Be good Akari-chan!" he shoots me a small smile before shutting the door behind him before I can even utter a word. I rush outside to see his silver car back out of the driveway, and drive off into the fading night. Soon there is nothing but silence once again. I can't help feeling disappointed. I haven't seen him since the end of summer, and this visit didn't even last half an hour. He just simply took the rice cakes, and left.

_He's only pretending to care about you._

Stupid Ikuto Takami. Stop it.

I sit down quietly on the front steps and look up tentatively up into the starry sky. I'm so selfish, wanting Shiru to stay even when he's so busy. I'm so childish, wanting life to be like when we were all still little, even when everyone else has obviously already moved on. I trace the outline of the big dipper hanging in the sky. I smile at the thought of it being filled with magical star dust that can make dreams come true, what else can a cup made of stars carry?

I still have a job to go to tomorrow, the future is still bright. Little Akari will learn to move on, just like everybody else.

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**Thank you for reading! Please review~~~! :)**


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